


Infirmum

by M4M4



Series: Barely Getting There [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur has TB, F/M, Hallucinations, Sex While Sick, Sleep Paralysis, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M4M4/pseuds/M4M4
Summary: Arthur finally gets what he wants.





	Infirmum

**Author's Note:**

> thought of this while listening to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SVDED5JgE4w)

Arthur's pretty sure it's midnight, but he can't sleep. Sweat is pouring from him. The sheets are drenched and a bead of perspiration manages to dip into his eye.

Opening his eyes, he can see Mara leaning over him. Her inky black hair spilling from her shoulders and tickling his chest. "You don't look so good, Arthur."

"I... can't breathe."

"Yes, you can. Relax. Sh, sh. You're alright," her voice is hushed, like a mother cooing to her baby.

He tries to take a deep breath but ends up coughing up blood and phlegm. For a moment, he can hear Dutch shouting.

"I can't sleep," he wheezes and shuts his eyes tight.

Opening his eyes once more, he notices the space beside him is empty. Someone is standing over him, but he can't quite make out their face.

"Sleep," the figure says, but Arthur can't quite make out its voice.

"I can't. I can't go to sleep. I'm... 'fraid I might die."

It lowers it's hand over his face, and suddenly his body feels like it's floating.

"Arthur, wake up."

"Wha-?"

He's back in her cabin, away from all his dreams. Mara is stroking his face. Her hand feels like a cool island on his clammy face. "You're not going to die. You're alright"

"I saw something- someone."

"Hey, you're with me, okay?"

Propping himself up on his arms, he glanced around the room. She's right. He can see the moonlight streaming through the thin curtains. He glances toward her, and feels himself relax in her presence. 

"I can't go to sleep, everything..." _Hurts,_ is what he wants to say, but he doesn't want her worrying about him more than she already is.

"You're going to be alright," she says in a hopeful tone, smiling slightly.

He can't help but shake his head, stifling another cough. "As much as I 'preciate your optimism, I don't think I have much time left."

Her smile softens, and it's saddening.

"I thought it'd be different."

"How so?" Mara asks, and she leans just a touch closer.

"Thought it'd be at the end of someone's gun or... a noose. Not this," he lazily gestures to himself, all thin and weathered. A far cry from the softness he had earlier in the year.

Mara stares at him, it's hollow and strange. She reaches out and strokes his jaw. She has the lightest touch for someone who used to beat people to death.

"Arthur."

"Just... leave. Don't want you seein' me like this."

"No."

"Please..." he wheezes out, and coughs once more, noting the flecks of blood that coated his palm were coagulated. Wiping his hand on his chest, he breathes out a shaky sigh.

"Arthur, look at me."

When he finally tears his gaze away from his hand, his eyes widen as he realizes she's all exposed. Her bare body looks soft, inviting. He wants so desperately to touch her.

"Mara?" His mouth was suddenly dry, and he felt himself shiver under her reverent gaze.

"Shhh..."

"Will I die if we do this?"

She presses her fingers to his lips and shushes him.

"You're dying as we speak, Arthur. Make this count."

Mara is silent for the next few moments. She pulls him close to her chest, cradling him in her firm arms. It feels as if he's floating downwards, and yet he isn't afraid. He wants to be pulled under. He wants to make her sing, hear those wonderful noises coming from her mouth.

He feels her palms brush up against his chest, squeezing each of his pecs, thumbing his nipples, tracing each rib with a reverence Arthur is sure he doesn't deserve. The sensation is unbelievable. Arthur gasps, and leans back, overwhelmed.

Suddenly, he's inside, and he's not thinking anymore, merely feeling.

He desperately grabs for her hands and presses kisses to her palms and wrists, tugging her closer in so he could nip and lick at her collar as well. She reaches up and tilts his head toward her. When he looks at her, he remembers seeing depictions of the Nereids and sirens, of Aphrodite and her long hair, billowing in the wind. Mara only sighs in response, and it's possibly the best thing Arthur has ever heard.

Without thinking, his mouth is on hers, awkwardly colliding, not even caring about the click of their teeth hitting against one another. For once, he doesn't taste the metallic tinge of blood, just Mara.

He's clinging to her, and she's murmuring comforting words.

After a moment, he either groans or sobs -- quite frankly, he doesn't care -- and something inside him tips over the edge.

When he wakes up, it's late in the day. Mara is nowhere to be found.


End file.
